I hear Valery shout something at Diomid, but I'm too far away to know what she says. At least they'll buy me enough time to follow him. I can't let my brothers take me away from him.
Bardil is in the car, about to get in.
I grab his arm and yank him to face me. I'm so angry and hurt that my expression makes him hesitate.
He opens his mouth to say something, and I punch my fist as hard as I can into his chest. He hardly feels it. He doesn't even flinch, but the shock of my outburst has him stunned into silence. I've never been aggressive in anger before, but dammit, this man is pushing me way beyond what my heart can handle.
"Why do you have to be such an asshole!"I shout. "Why do you always have to push people away? People who care about you! People who are fighting for you!"
"My sister will still be my sister when this is all over," he scoffs.
"I'm not only talking about Talia, Bardil. I'm talking about everyone," I groan.
He scoffs.
"Are you serious? You're really that much of an idiot?" I demand. "Don't you see what you're doing? People try to reach out to you, they try to make an effort to show you they care, and you put walls up. Higher and higher every time. You push people away. You do it so effectively that you don't even see how much you hurt the people around you." My voice breaks, and tears spill over my cheeks.
"No one cares, Nikita. So why should I?"
"You're hurting your family, Bardil. Open your eyes… You're hurtingme," I murmur through my tears.
Bardil's eyes narrow. His brow furrows, and for the first time, he really pauses to look at me.
His gaze softens, but as he reaches his hand out to touch my face, the world starts to spin.
I gasp, lifting my hand to grab him and steady myself, but my legs are already buckling beneath me.
My vision goes black, and I feel his arms around me.
"Nikita?" His voice is soothing but panicked. "Kita? Can you hear me?"
Chapter 21 - Bardil
She collapses in my arms, and I cradle her against my chest, my heart aching, my mind racing with everything that's just happened.
She was furious. So angry it stressed her out to the point where she passed out.
I gently place her on the passenger seat, and without any other options, I drive her home. I realize that she might not want to leave with me, that she might be furious when she regains her strength and sees that I've taken her, but what else is there for me to do?
She wakes up during the drive and pulls her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees.
Neither of us speaks because there are still so many hurtful things hanging in the air between us that adding any more to it will be a heavier burden.
I can already hardly bear the weight of what I'm carrying now.
Pain is aching through me.
I've lost her. Maybe I never had her. That's more realistic. Her entire goal was just to get back to her family, and she orchestrated this whole day to achieve that.
I put my trust in her and look where it got me. Face to face with my enemies.
Arriving at the mansion, I hurry to her side of the car as she steps out on shaky legs.
"Let me help you," I demand, lifting her into my arms again. She sighs in frustration, but is too exhausted to fight me. I carry her up to her room and put her on the bed. Silently, I remove her shoes and her jacket and lift the blankets so she can crawl beneath them.
Too tired to do or say anything, she curls into a ball and falls asleep almost instantly.
My heart beats in slow, steady rhythms. Each pulse is painful as I stare down at her. At her beauty. Her perfection. The girl who stole my heart and then used it against me.
